holding by a stirrup. Young Stetson's face was black with passion,
and his eyes were heavy with drink. At the door of the mill he
swung from his horse, and for a moment was hardly able to speak
from rage. There had been no fight. The Stetsons were few and
unprepared. They had neither the guns nor, without Rufe, the
means to open the war, and they believed Rufe had gone for arms.
So they had chafed in the store all day, and all day Lewallens on
horseback and on foot were in sight; and each was a taunt to every
Stetson, and, few as they were, the young and hot-headed wanted
to go out and fight. In the afternoon a tale-bearer had brought some
of Jasper's boasts to Rome, and, made reckless by moonshine and
much brooding, he sprang up to lead them. Steve Marcum, too,
caught up his gun, but old Sam's counsel checked him, and the two
by force held Rome back. A little later the Lewallens left town.
The Stetsons, too, disbanded, and on the way home a last drop of
gall ran Rome's cup of bitterness over. Opposite Steve Brayton's
cabin a jet of smoke puffed from the bushes across the river, and a
bullet furrowed the road in front of him. That was the shot they
had heard at the mill. Somebody was drawing a dead-line," and
Rome wheeled his horse at the brink of it. A mocking yell came
over the river, and a gray horse flashed past an open space in the
bushes. Rome knew the horse and knew the yell; young Jasper
was "bantering" him. Nothing maddens the mountaineer like this
childish method of insult; and telling of it, Rome sat in a corner,
and loosed a torrent of curses against young Lewallen and his clan.

Old Gabe had listened without a word, and the strain in his face
was eased. Always the old man had stood for peace. He believed
it had come after the court-house fight, and he had hoped against
hope, even when Rufe came back to trade against old Jasper; for